These Violent Delights
by Diana-na-na-na
Summary: What happened to Tobias Ragg after being wrongly imprisoned for the murders of Fleet Street.


These Violent Delights

"Tobias. You be good now, and keep out of trouble." The officer guarding the gate grinned, his eyes set upon Tobias Ragg. He seemed glad to see him go, it wasn't often the innocent were proven to be innocent and let go. This pleased him mostly because he played a considerable part in the matter.

Tobias breathed in the free air and his gaze focused on the officer," I appreciate the thought. I can assure you, I will never set foot in this place again."

He looked back at the prison, looming over him against the full white moon. It seemed fitting that he would be released into the dark. He began walking away towards the streets of London, his stomach growling and his heart ablaze. His lungs hadn't tasted the London air in over 3 long years, and his long brown hair appreciated the warm breeze. He thought he detected the scent of a pie in the oven, the smoke leaving a chimney on its way to his nostrils, but surely it was his imagination. It must be.

His stomach growled again and with the 10 pounds he had been granted for being wrongly imprisoned, he made his way down the streets of London, heading towards the nearest pie shop. His stomach felt empty and he felt his insatiable craving for one of Mrs. Lovett's pies was the only thing that would satiate him.

The streets were quiet and empty, hardly anything was open. He felt a scowl spread across his face as he came to the realization that only drunkards and whores plagued the streets at this hour. Disgusted, he entered a small bakery. Inside it was cool and dimly lit, with a pudgy woman reading something at the counter. When he entered, the bells on the door chimed and her attention was directed at him. A smile lit up her face," Good evening, sir! How may I serve you?"

"Do you have pies?" He inquired, glancing about.

The woman laughed," This is a bakery shop, of course I do. I don't want to come off as smug, but I dare say I serve the finest pies in London."

We'll see about that.

"In that case, I'll take your 'finest' meat pie." He headed towards a table and sat down.

"Comin' right up!"

He watched as her fat rear disappeared into the kitchen, a hop in her step.

She came back shortly after, a warm pie on a tray in her hands which she proceeded to place in the table before him," Enjoy, dear!"

Without a second thought, he cut into the pie and took a bite, ready to experience the sensations he had felt before. To his dismay, however, he didn't.

"What is this?" He inquired, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin and pushing the pie a small way away from him.

"It's pork, dear. You don't like it?"

He looked at her, saw the hurt in her eyes, and put the napkin down," No, it's disgusting."

She grimaced," You don't have to be rude about it."

He stood up," Had I given you any money, I'd be asking for it back." He headed towards the door and with a "good night", disappeared outside. If he wanted one of Lovett's pies again, he'd have to craft it himself.

First, however, he needed a barber shop.

It had only been three days since his release before he found himself standing in front a small store previously named Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies. Memories of the woman rushed through his brain and he felt his heart harden in his chest. He directed his gaze to the slanted windows above, knowing there was no one in the building now.

After walking up the stairs leading to Todd's former barbershop, however, he was surprised to see the lights on and a balding man cleaning something inside. Intrigued, he stepped inside, admiring the man's gall at leaving the door wide open for anyone to barge in.

"Hello."

With a girlish shriek, the man spun around, a hand on his chest," Bloody hell! You almost gave me a heart attack." He regained his composure and gave a hearty laugh," I'm sorry. I'm Roderick Walsh, at your service. What can I do you for?"

"I apologize for my ignorance, but I thought this place was rid of after the Sweeney Todd incident." Tobias looked around in clear disgust of the place.

"Oh, yes. Such a shame a talented barber as himself had to leave us so soon. I took over the shop after the kid got taken for his murders." Mr. Walsh grabbed a barber knife and proceeded to clean it with a small towel.

"He was proven innocent." Tobias scowled, for some reason not revealing his identity," He was set free."

"Aye, well if ya ask me that's a load o' crap. That kid is from the devil, who else would've killed all those bloody people? Jesus, he sliced Todd's throat like a proper professional, he did!" The man shook his head," What a waste of a perfectly good barber."

Tobias had blocked the man almost completely, his gaze locked on the barber knife in his hands," Is that not his?"

Mr. Walsh followed Tobias' gaze to his knife and smiled," That it is. Cost me a fortune to purchase, but the full set is mine now."

"I'd like a shave." The words left his mouth without his consent and his legs asked for no permission to move and hop on the chair in front of Mr. Walsh. His mind had subconsciously come up with a plan, fueled by the memory of Tobias Ragg 3 years back. The Tobias that walked up behind Sweeney Todd's kneeling frame, a beautiful barber knife in his hand and with one clean stroke, slit his throat.

He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat as Walsh began to spread shaving cream on his face. Tobias, who had noticed the set of knives on a table beside him, kept his eyes locked on the barber and when he was sure he wasn't looking, snatched one knife. He didn't know why, or what he would do if he was caught, yet he still placed them in his coat's pocket.

It felt like forever until the barber was done. When he was, he went to wash the knife he'd been using on Tobias' prickly stubble. This is when Tobias sneaked up behind him, his heart pumping with adrenaline and his hands sweaty with built up anticipation. Then he landed a hard punch on the barber's neck.

He didn't even make a sound!

A massive grin spread on his face as he kneeled and took the magnificent knife from the barber's hand. As soon as he touched it, he felt his hand quiver and had goosebumps crawl up his arms. He breathed in and shivered.

He all but ran to the lodging house he had managed to afford a stay in, and once he was there in his room, he hopped on the bed and took the knives from his pocket to admire them.

Beautiful.

He recalled the days in which he would watch Sweeney giving normal non-murderous shaves, one of Mrs. Lovett's meat pies in his hand. He should be disgusted now, knowing exactly what the meat was from, but for some reason he wasn't. All it reminded him of was Mrs. Lovett's sweet embrace, and her kind words, her promises.

"Nothing's gonna harm you…" He muttered under his breath, his eyes closed, trying to somehow force her to exist once more. He clenched his jaw and sat up, bringing his hands up to his face only to feel it had become wet with tears.

He shook his head, trying to snap out of it, and placed the knives on the table by his bed. He was a kid back then.

He couldn't sleep. He was sweaty, his heart was beating frantically, he was gasping for breath, and no matter what position he tried, his mind would not stop shouting at him.

Finally, he stood from his bed and rushed to the washroom. He splashed water on his face multiple times, then grabbed a towel. He saw himself in the mirror, bags under his brown eyes, his hair a damp mess on his pale head.

He took deep breaths and suddenly, a sharp glimmer caught his eye from inside his dark room. The moon was illuminating one of the knives on the table. He picked it up and his heart relaxed. With one last deep breath, he decided to take a walk. He took the knife, sure that if he placed it back on the table, his mind would go on a frenzy.

He walked down the streets of London with it in his hand, concealed in his pocket. The breeze felt nice.

It had been about one hour before he saw her. A stout woman, drunk, bragging about a stupid bonnet on her head.

"Aye, lad! C'mere, hon!"

He grimaced and reluctantly walked over to her. She stunk.

"Bloody hell, you are a sight to behold!" She grinned," Absolutely beautiful. Whatdoyousay, eh? Shall we go somewhere a little more private?"

He could see her former glamour beneath her fat, could tell she used to be an attractive woman, perhaps even with self-respect.

"Sure." He found himself saying.

She looked taken aback," R…really? I mean, let's go, hunk. Trust me, I can give you a run for your money."

When she took his hand and led him to a back alley, he realized he had never been so disgusted with a human being until now. She giggled and burped as she untied her bonnet, and when she placed her lips on his neck, he gagged.

"You smell nice." She started picking up her skirts, never once breaking eye contact with him," I might give you this one for free… a little taste to get you hooked."

He scowled as she turned around, slowly removing her knickers.

"Filthy whore."

She giggled," Oh, hon. You have no idea."

His blood started to boil," Have you no shame?"

She only giggled.

"Stop giggling."

She laughed and his blood started to boil.

She burped and her hand reached back towards his pants, pulling at him," Take that off, handsome."

He shuddered," No. I've changed my mind."

He backed away and started to walk towards the street when she threw herself at him," No, honey don't leave me like this, look," she brought her hand up in front of his face," You've got me all wet."

It all happened so fast. It went in a blur, he gripped the knife and as he turned, he cut into her throat, holding back an angry growl. She had no time to scream. She was on the floor, twitching, her eyes wide open and locked on his, blood gushing from her neck and mouth.

It felt so good. His heart sped up, but not in a bad way, he felt satisfied and he now understood why Todd killed his victims this way. The pleasure he had derived from the short experience was indescribable. He took one last look at her before heading back to his home.

He slept like a baby that night.

It wasn't three months later, however, until he met Mary. She was attractive, with blond hair and sky blue eyes. She hadn't approached him, so he had taken it upon himself to go up to her," Evening, lady."

She gave him a small smile," Hello. Can I help you?"

"Is that an Irish accent I hear?"

She sighed," Good ears, I try to hide it."

"Why? It's quite pleasant."

She bit her lip and cocked her head," How about you follow me to my lodging and I'll tell you all about my Irish accent."

He agreed, and she told him about herself on the way there.

"My name is Marie Jeanette Kelly. You can just call me Mary. I'm 25. How about yourself?"

"Almost 18. The name's Tobias Ragg." He said, just as they reached her home in Miller's Court.

She seemed surprised," Not many men would tell their name to a prostitute."

He stepped inside at her command," You won't reveal my identity to anyone."

She smiled and began to take her clothes off," Cocky."

He gulped," Not many women dare stand alone at night. Have you not heard of the Ripper?"

She seemed uneasy at the question," Yes. Well, it is quite hard to earn a living. My looks do help a bit more in this line of work, not everyone can afford a stay in a nice room like this."

"So you're willing to risk certain death?" He unbuttoned his coat and proceeded to remove his clothes. He noticed her folding her clothes and placing them on a chair. She began to remove her chemise, but he stopped her.

"I'd rather you keep that on."

She raised an eyebrow but did as she was told. She led him towards the bed," Do you plan on keeping those on?" She asked, tugging at his pants.

"For now." He lowered himself on top of her on the bed, letting her take a hold of his face and kiss his mouth. She squirmed beneath his roaming hands and played with his hair.

Tobias found her warmth pleasant, she wasn't disgusting. He didn't recoil when she wrapped her legs around him, or gag when her hand began to play with him. He felt a hunger in his stomach, and he knew she would be the one to satiate him. It had to be her. He bit and nibbled at her bottom lip and he heard Mrs. Lovett's voice in his mind scolding him for playing with his food.

He must have done something, because her mouth let out a moan and she began thrusting herself at him frantically, yearning for more contact.

"Take them off," She begged in a raspy voice.

"No."

He played with her for a little while longer and then he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear," Will you stay with me?"

She nodded quickly," Yes. Yes, I will."

His hand reached down and she gasped," Do you promise?"

"I promise," She moaned.

Then he reached into his pants," Close your eyes."

She did, and with a firm grip on his tool, he slashed at her throat.

She screamed. It wasn't loud, and it didn't last long, but she yelled out and her eyes shot open with agony and fear. Her expression was his favorite. He let himself go crazy, he slashed at her pretty face, he cut deep into her arms as he ground himself on her, and he felt her breasts before running the knife beneath them and removing them from her chest. He was in ecstasy as he cut deep into her abdomen, his arms going over his head holding the knife and then plunging it into her stomach. Overkill, really, but he was enjoying himself greatly.

Finally, exhausted, he stood up leaving her legs spread open, and reached for her bag. Her guts were spilling out. He cut some off and placed them in the bag, along with her mutilated breasts. He cleaned himself in her washroom and put his clothes back on, looking back at her one last time.

What a sight to behold.

He walked through London earning no suspicious glances and once at home, he ground the skin and intestines so they appeared like chunks of meat from something other than a human.

Then he headed down to a familiar bakery with the meat in a container. He walked inside, a bell marking his presence and the pudgy woman smiled before realizing who it was.

"You here to insult my pies again?"

"I'm here to give you another chance," He walked to the counter," I brought some meat from home. I'd like you to make a pie from it."

She scowled and open the container, thinking for a moment before shrugging," Seems like enough. Fine, I'll do it."

She took the container and disappeared into the kitchen.

He sat at a table, feeling giddy. It was almost as if Mrs. Lovett would walk out there and hand it to him personally.

He waited for a long time, but he hoped it would be worth it. It was, after all his third time in the store. The woman before Mary tasted vile.

The stout baker later came back and placed the pie on the table," Insult it again and see what happens."

He smiled and cut into the pie, digging a fork into a portion of it before bringing it to his mouth.

He chewed.

Then he kept chewing, again and again.

He chewed once more and stopped, looking at the woman with a look of pure satisfaction," Delicious."


End file.
